


Ash and Abyss

by Valgus



Series: Words of Nations [9]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Handcuffs, M/M, Porn With Plot, Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4046050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valgus/pseuds/Valgus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This guy… he crossed the line and didn’t even <i>blink</i>. You don’t come back from that.”</p><p>Detective Ludwig Beilschmidt was after a murderer, the one that might turn into a serial one if he didn’t take quick action. Little did he know that Ivan Braginsky was more than the most terrifying criminal he ever encountered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ash and Abyss

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.  
And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”

\- Friedrich Nietzsche 

*)*

When Ludwig jumped into his next case, his lack of sleep had caught up with him and his head was heavier than ever. But he supposed, one would always feel tired when one deals with one of the worst sides of humankind.

His partner, Antonio, chirped almost mindlessly when they were brought by helicopter to the small town for their next investigation. 

Antonio couldn’t wait to start. Ludwig couldn’t wait to finish.

*)*

His old colleague Basch Zwingli waited on the airport. His face was as stern as always, but he ran to Ludwig and Antonio once both of the detectives set their foot on ground. Ludwig noticed that Basch's usually tidy and perfectly straight blond hair was a little messy and he had the blue eyes of someone who didn't get enough sleep.

“We could really use your help here,” Basch gave him a bitter smile.

Ludwig only nodded in return.

*)*

When they inspected the body, Ludwig didn’t realise he would see more bruises on the victim’s body. The young girl was covered in small bruises here and there, but if there was anything that strikes the blond detective as strange, that would be the trace of cleaning all over the corpse.

“He cut her hair a little,” Ludwig pointed around the victim’s head. “Also her nails,” he hummed, walking to the lower side of the body. “And toenails.”

Basch’s stern expression melted a little. Now Ludwig could see fear.

“Will there be second victim, then?” the other blond in bob-cut asked.

Ludwig straightened his back, “There will be if we don’t get him first. I don’t find the information on how he cleaned up the victim after he killed her. Do you see the neat line he made on the hair and nails? He was calm, even after he murdered a young girl.”

Antonio shifted from one leg to the other next to him while Basch gulped visibly.

“This guy…” Ludwig glanced at the corpse once again, “… he crossed the line and didn’t even _blink_.” He now stared Basch in the eyes, determined to stop this maniac and shook his head, “You don’t come back from that.”

*)*

A couple of days later, they found the victim’s bag. Taking all its original content and replacing it with the fake ones, Ludwig ordered Basch to air the news that the bag was missing.

Not long after, a suspicious, large man was come into their attention. He appeared on the site where the bag was originally found—only that there was no connection whatsoever between this man and the victim.

So Ludwig stuck with a name—Ivan Braginsky—and no clue.

This was pretty much his last case all over again.

*)*

Antonio didn’t get less chirpy after several day in this small, strange town, but Ludwig got less sleep. He knew a murderer when he saw one. He could smell them like a wild animal could smell fear. He didn’t believe in coincidence. Ivan Braginsky appeared into the picture for reason.

At their second week, Basch brought everyone to bar for some drinks. Antonio drank cheerfully, but Ludwig slipped out from the crowd and laughter to smoke outside. He never allowed himself to smoke unless there was a great distress.

Lifting the cigarette upon his mouth, his eyes fell to a large, almost menacing figures in the distance. On the carpark, Ivan Braginsky stood, neck wrapped with scarf and his long coat was only half buttoned.

Ludwig jerked into standing straight like alerted dog. 

Ivan smiled—the bastard smiled to him, eyes laughing childishly, before turning around just walked to the city.

Ludwig followed him immediately. His eyes quickly scanning the crowded city on weekend, trying to find a certain ashen blond man.

Was his mind deceiving him after all? Could it be that Ivan Braginsky was actually innocent? Was it possible that Ludwig was just thinking about it?

Ludwig kept following Ivan, careful to kept his distance, until the road leads to the shack where the victim’s bag was originally found. Feeling his heart thumping loudly upon his ribcages, Ludwig started to believe that Ivan Braginsky was the murderer after all.

He followed the taller man slowly to the shack, drawing his gun slowly and silently on the process.

*)*

The shack was dark when Ludwig slowly approached it. Screaming “Police! Open the door!” didn’t give any reaction he expected. Kicking the door open, the detective slowly slid in and inspecting the only room on the building.

Dust had collected on places like old wine rack and cupboard with scattered kitchenware, but the wooden floor and table was clean. There were tools for woodcarving here and there. Still with one hand gripping tightly to his gun, Ludwig turned on the light. 

The warm, yellowish light bathed the room.

One second Ludwig was slowly lowering his gun down, the next second she was slammed on the wooden table, face first with cold, large hand on his nape. He grunted and struggled, trying to retrieve his gun that fell to the floor. But the person behind him was stronger, clenching Ludwig’s forearm on his back, stopping Ludwig’s legs from kicking and resisting.

The blond moaned in pain.

By the next second, still with Ludwig squirming and struggling, his other forearm joined the others. The detective was ready for his neck to be snapped backward. Squeezing his eyes shut, Ludwig was ready for pain, but the next thing he knew, he heard sound of handcuffs jingling and felt it cuffed into his wrists.

Feeling his heart thumping madly on his chest, Ludwig’s brain overworked as he wondered what this sick murderer might had in store for him. He certainly wasn’t a young girl, but some terrible bastard like him—

“I’m not going to kill you.”

Ludwig froze. It was the first time he heard Ivan Braginksy’s voice this close. Heavy with Russian accent, Ivan’s voice was surprisingly soft and rather cheerful. Ludwig could picture him reading bedtime story for children. The contradiction between what Ivan done and his voice made Ludwig’s stomach felt cold and twisted.

“No?” he panted, turning his head around in attempt to get a good look to the killer’s face. His chest felt heavy and comfortable against the wooden table.

“It’s not like you have a choice not to believe me, da?” sang Ivan. He grabbed Ludwig’s neck to slam his face back to the wooden table, hard enough to make him flinch but didn’t hurt him.

“You’re sick,” Ludwig muttered between his ragged breath. “Do you have fun with your victim before killing them? Is this what you also did to your first?”

Ivan chuckled.

“The difference would be I’m not about to kill you.”

Ludwig felt Ivan’s hands on his hips. The same hands then snaked down to his belt, slowly undoing them as understanding sank in Ludwig’s mind. The detective only realised he was holding his breath when he exhaled sharply as Ivan slid his fingers on his pants’ waistband.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Ludwig spatted through his gritted teeth, trying to look at Ivan, wishing his gaze might burn the ashen blond behind him.

But Ivan only responded by yanking his pants down to his thighs.

Ludwig gasped when he felt cold air on his behind. The silence Ivan left made him realised that he was panicking, breathing so fast that he might as well freshly pulled out of water.

“You wouldn’t dare,” the detective repeated shakily, only to have Ivan placing his hands on his bottoms, squeezing them before spreading them, exposing his hole and made Ludwig flinched.

“You’re noisy, da?” Ivan still made that singing-like voice. “Is it possible that this is your first time with a man?”

Ludwig refused to answer. His brain was screaming ‘This is not happening. This is not happening.’ as he continued to yank his hands, as if the handcuffs could come off by such sad attempt.

“So it is,” Ivan took the freedom to answer it himself, his sweet, childish voice made Ludwig shiver.

“You—“ Ludwig growled. He was ready to retort, but his unborn attempt was stopped when he heard Ivan behind him sucked his own fingers. 

“Da?” Ivan replied cheerily as he entered his saliva-coated finger into Ludwig’s hole.

The detective’s reaction rattled the wooden table he lied his upper body on. Groaned in pain, Ludwig made another attempt to kick the Russian behind him.

His legs touched nothing but thin air. Ludwig movement became slower and slower to every thrust Ivan gave into him. His head was so hot and he had never been so embarrassed in his life. When Ivan entered another finger inside him, Ludwig knew he never felt sicker.

“Stop,” was the pathetic grunt Ludwig managed to speak after sometime. His legs were trembling and he could feel Ivan’s fingers against his inside even though the ashen blond had already withdraw his wet fingers.

“Why would I stop?” asked Ivan, his tone made him sound like he was playing with a puppy instead of about to rape someone.

Ludwig gritted his teeth, his brain trying to find a solution to escape from this situation, but Ivan suddenly kicked his legs open and slid easily, leaning into Ludwig’s behind. His hardness stroke again Ludwig’s bottoms and Ludwig felt a cold wave throughout his body.

Fear. He felt fear.

Ivan’s hands were on Ludwig’s hips once again, but this time, his erection was teasingly moved around Ludwig’s hole. “Please don’t…” Ludwig pleaded outside his will, only to have Ivan shove his cock inside him.

Screaming was clearly an understatement to what Ludwig did. The detective never felt such an intense pain and embarrassment at the same time. As if that weren’t enough, Ivan started to thrust again him, slowly at first but building up the pace as he went on.

It didn’t take long until Ludwig was drenched in sweat. He could feel Ivan’s sweat dripping into his exposed back and bottom as well. The whole time, he was simply thinking on how to escape this humiliation, even if that means he had to die.

Ludwig tried to form a sentence to communicate with Ivan, but with every thrust, his attempt to think crumbled down like a house in fire.

Instead of talking, all Ludwig able to hear was humiliating sound of him being fucked by Ivan. He wanted to cover his mouth but his hands were tied. He tried to hold his mouth closed, but it only made the sensation more intense because he kept his response inside him.

After several thrusts where Ivan was able to put his whole member inside him, Ludwig felt Ivan shifted his hips angle. The ashen blond hardness touched something inside him, a point that made his whole body shivered and suddenly elicited a moan.

Ivan shove himself to the same spot again and again and Ludwig could feel himself tearing up by the experience.

“It feels good now, da?” sang Ivan cheerfully, moving his hips mercilessly.

Ludwig wanted nothing more than disappear into nothingness.

It was just too much; the humiliation, the heat, the pleasure that ran through his body like electricity… Ludwig couldn’t handle it. When Ivan slowly stopped, Ludwig felt both relief and disappointment.

Ludwig breathed, feeling his hands almost numb behind his back and the wooden table underneath him painted with his sweat, saliva, and tears. Just when he thought that the next he would feel would be a shot to his head, Ivan turned his body around.

Lying with his back on the table, Ludwig could now see Ivan looming at him. He took off his coat and showing his muscular yet almost deathly pale skin, but his scarf stayed. Ivan’s violet eyes seemed to burn with something—evilness, eagerness to destroy the detective he assault. Ludwig wanted to spat something along ‘Are you satisfied now, you sick fuck?’ but Ivan then tore his pants down, leaving his socks and shoes on.

Before Ludwig was able to recover from the previous assault, Ivan entered him once again. Ludwig couldn’t hold back his scream. The Russian easily found Ludwig’s strange spot once again and for the first time since Ludwig could remember, he was begging for mercy.

“No—please don’t… no… not there. I beg you—n-no… please—ah!” 

Ludwig felt so dizzy; pain, anger, shame, and pleasure mixed into one. He vaguely felt tears falling from his eyes, as the substance became one with his sweat. It was so hot, even though the room was so cold—even though Ivan Braginsky has the coldest fingers in the world. Ludwig clenched his cuffed hands, wanting to stop feeling the pleasure.

But he just couldn’t.

He just couldn’t stop feeling good and it frustrated him so much. His body was warm with pleasure and he could feel his cock harder than rock.

As Ludwig got closer to his orgasm, his moans became higher and higher to the point he wanted to die just from hearing himself moaning during sex. It couldn’t be more humiliating, could it?

But, oh, how Ludwig was wrong.

He felt a large, cold fingers wrapped around his erection and Ludwig wanted to scream his head off. Ivan’s smirk as Ludwig looked up at the violet-eyed man, in the detective’s attempt to stop everything.

Ivan handled his cock like it was a living creature, hushing and cooing as he rubbed it while still rocking his hips against the moaning mess that once was the most prideful detective in town.

Ludwig could feel him tightening against Ivan and he sobbed unwillingly, tears streaming down his eyes, only to hear Ivan giggled, “How cute.” Ludwig was close. So close. So fucking close.

He turned his head away, squeezing his eyes closed, resisting as hard as he could. But only half a second after he did, Ivan’s hand moved from his erection to his chin, forcing Ludwig to stare at his rapist as Ivan slamming his hips against his.

“Look at me, My Little Sunflower. Look at my eyes. I want to see your expression when you come,” he smiled, the look on his face could be easily mistaken as a loving look from a lover to another.

Ludwig had no choice but to stare at Ivan. He had never felt so humiliated before. His body tensed up out of embarrassment and he could hear a gleeful giggle escaping Ivan's lips as Ludwig clenched even tighter around his hardness. The pooling heat on his lower stomach became the only thing he could feel beside upcoming wave of orgasm he knew he would come soon.

Ivan's cold, long finger grabbed Ludwig's neck and choking him, intensifying the pleasure and the pain. 

“Don’t—please don’t look at me… don’t…” Ludwig pleaded, struggling to breath for air. The almost-drowning sensation mixed with Ivan's cock stirring his inside in the most pleasurable way possible made Ludwig's body gave up. He came, moaning so loud and curled his toes, dirtying his stomach and upper clothes. His eyes were on Ivan’s as he felt relief washed over him, his whole body aching so much from pleasure. The man with scarf looked extremely pleased, taking his hand from Ludwig's neck and stroking the detective's dick, hushing and cooing like comforting small animal again.

When Ludwig finished, Ivan moved his hips again, this time slower but with bigger strength. He came two thrusts after, releasing all his seed inside the detective. The silence that followed made Ludwig realised how hard he panted and how hot his inside were. He was messy and sticky with sweat, tears, and his own come, but none of those could be compared with the sensation of having Ivan Braginsky's come inside him.

The murderer still loomed over him, slowly pulling out his limp dick from inside Ludwig before cleaning himself with Ludwig’s clothes. He ended his activity with releasing handcuff from Ludwig's wrists, as the detective had no more energy to move after all that roughness.

Ivan smiled before left, just like that. Ludwig slowly sat, shaken and tired to the bone. He was still high from his orgasm, but he knew that once he freed from it, only embarrassment would follow. He straightened his back and tried to sit, only to feel Ivan’s liquid oozing out from inside him.

Ludwig was fucked. Ludwig was thoroughly fucked.

*)*

Several weeks passed with no development to the murderer. Basch eventually told Ludwig and Antonio that they could return to their town. Antonio’s husband, Lovino, called the Spaniard at least three times a day and the frequency of his calls increasing every week, while Ludwig started to grow tired of eating halibut and missed the taste of wurst made by his older brother.

Sitting on the helicopter on their way back, Ludwig stared intensely to his own reflection at the window.

One day, he would find that evidence and put the sick fuck Ivan Braginsky to the cell where he belonged, hopefully forever.

_One day._

*)*

Ludwig returned to his routine. Even though he still woke up to the same ceiling of his bedroom, to same cheerful smile of Antonio on the office every morning, the sound of Ivan Braginsky’s ragged breath as the taller man fucked him senseless stayed at the back of Ludwig’s mind, haunting his every daydream and nightmare.

About a month before the case on Basch’s town turned a year old, Ludwig decided that he would go visit a psychiatrist or some sort. He couldn’t live knowing that the dirtiest, most pleasurable memory he had concerning sex had to do with being raped by a cold-blooded murderer.

Ludwig was scrolling through result on psychiatrist on his area when his older brother Gilbert suddenly appeared—he didn’t even hear him coming.

“West, there’s a guest for you,” Gilbert leaned on Ludwig’s bedroom door.

“A… guest?” Ludwig turned his head around slowly. He couldn't recall on planning to have anyone around, not when he was such a mess in the head. 

“Yeah,” Gilbert squeezing his red eyes, looking back and forth from his younger brother’s face to the direction front door. “I didn’t know you have Russian friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> It’s roughly based on and inspired by “Insomnia”, a 2002 movie starring Al Pacino and Robin Williams and directed by Christopher Nolan, but I took the liberty to add and take whatever I needed. (If you have watched the movie, you will know that there was more to Ludwig and Antonio relationship than portrayed here, but I focused in, one can say, mindfuck—and actual fuck in my case—between the detective and the murderer.)
> 
> Needless to say, because I read tons—and I mean it—and tons of fan fictions where Ivan is the bad guy, I don’t make him the bad guy because I dislike him. On the contrary, I think he’s a very adorable character and I like him a lot. It’s just that he has this perfect ability to muster a nice smile while thinking of terrible thing (like magical metal pipe of pain? LOL).
> 
> Other reason would be RusGer hardcore fuck.
> 
> I’m sorry.
> 
> (Maybe not that sorry.)
> 
> Thank you for reading “Ash and Abyss”.
> 
> Note added on 05/06/2015: I have an idea on continuation of this. It's on what happened when Ludwig has Russian visitor on his bedroom. It would involve another non-con and, something I didn't get the chance to write here on "Ash and Abyss" even though I really wanted to, amazing blow and handjob. I don't know whether I'll ever write it. I love creating idea but seldom have the will to execute it. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
